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In Search of the Missing (Cooking) BAT
Log Title: In Search of the Missing (Cooking) BAT Characters: Major Bludd, Over Kill, Tele-Viper 742 Location: Springfield, Australia and Brisbane, Australia Date: 23 December 2007 TP: Vanderpool TP Summary: Tele-Viper 742 tracks her missing BAT to Australia, where the plot involving Eli Vanderpool thickens. Springfield Municipal Airport With Brisbane so close and easily accessible by train and car, Springfield doesn't need a large airport. This is a small airport, capable of handling recreational prop planes and small jets. As airports so commonly do, this one has a tower, some hangars, and a landing strip. ---- Pennington's far from pleased. Over the course of the week, her cooking BAT has gone missing from the Columbia base, and no one's been able to contact it, least of all her. So she's called Over Kill to Springfield, hoping that he might be able to help her locate the lost mech. A larger then normal vector flies into the Springfield airstrip, landing to unload it's pilot. Over Kill moves to the tarmac, heading to Pennington's side. "Greetings, Ms. Pennington. I hear your BAT has gone missing. Do you have its last known algorithms?" Major Bludd lifts his gaze to the overcast skies, watching the new Vector fly in and set down on the tarmac. "What's this, now?" he asks as Over Kill steps out. "I don't recognise this one." "Well, the last I saw the BAT was in my quarters back at the Columbia base," Pennington admits to Over Kill. "But that was well over a week ago. I've had a friend keeping an eye on my quarters, and he says that a few nights ago, the BAT disappeared. Initially, I thought it might be a prank, but surveillance footage from that evening captured the BAT wandering off...on its own." Over Kill smiles. "He's a new build. I just brought him online yesterday." He says, his voice swelling with pride. "Major.. Pennington. I would like you to meet Vector 13. I will be training him to be our new Overlord Vector." the Vector bows his head and grunts in greetings, still hiding backwards a bit. He seems a bit shy. "Let me send out a signal and see if that cooking BAT answers. It probably just got off frequency." He sends out a return frequency to see if the BAT will ping it. "Thirteen, eh?" Bludd smiles, glancing to Pennington. "Some people might think that's a bad designation to use." Pennington smiles cheerfully at 13. "Nice to meet you! Oh, you don't have to be shy, we're all nice here." Except when we're not, she thinks to herself with a smirk. It takes an unusually long amount of time, but the cooking BAT responds to the ping. Oddly enough, if the coordinates are correct, it seems to be in Brisbane. Could that even be possible? Over Kill blinks "Brisbane." H e says. "Why would he be in Brisbane.. I think we should follow it. Instead of bringing it back. See who is trying to hack my BATs." He snarls. "In western culture the number thirteen is bad. But in eastern culture it isn't so bad is it, thirteen?" Vector 13 nods and stares at Pennington a while before giving what might be a sharp toothed grin. Major Bludd grins at Over Kill, then turns back to Vector Thirteen. "Welcome aboard, mate," he says to the carrier, adjusting his sunglasses. He frowns. "Brisbane? What, you mean it walked across the Pacific Ocean? We'd better find out what's up, and fast. If someone is trying to hack the BATs, it could be bad news." It could also have something to do with Tshwane, he thinks. Pennington gasps in surprise, glancing over at Bludd. There was something a little bit creepy about a BAT falling off its network and striking off on its own. Something like a puppet moving on its own...without the strings. "That can't be right, are you *sure* it's...practically down the road from us??" Pennington asks nervously. Over Kill hmms "Seems to be. I just hope this isn't some sort of trap. If so I don't think they'll be expecting this kind of response. Maybe when they see you me and thirteen they'll think twice about hacking into our equipment." Major Bludd narrows his eyes behind his shades. "Reckon I should pop back t' the house and get me sidearm," he grumbles. "Can you pinpoint where in Brisbane the BAT is?" Over Kill smirks. "I always carry extras." Says the walking armory. He digs in his leg compartment and brings out an M9 and some clips. "Let me see if I can get exact coordinates." he sends out a second ping. Major Bludd gives an amused grunt and accepts the weapon and ammunition, pocketing the clips and automatically checking the slide on the handgun. "I wonder if we can take Thirteen into Brisbane! That would be quick," Pennington notes, glancing from Bludd back toward Over Kill. "It would also be pretty obvious, I guess..." The secong ping hangs out there for some time, equating to an uncomfortable silence before it pings back, and exact coordinates are obtained. Over Kill considers. "He can always fly just out of radar range. He'll be above us. We'd know but no one else should know." He pause.s "A little lag, but I have the coordinates now. That lag's troublesome." "Why would the net be lagging if you're practically right on top of his coordinates? That doesn't make any sense. Maybe he's malfunctioning?" Pennington postulates. Major Bludd nods to Pennington. "It would be. And that still leaves us with a need for transportation," he adds to Over Kill. "I'd suggest taking a taxi, but ... that skin tech's not perfected yet, is it?" Over Kill considers "Perhaps he's in a shielded area. That's not good." He pauses. "I could go with the trench coat and hat routine if you think that will pass. I dont think I have time to transfer to a synthoid." Major Bludd looks the seven-and-a-half-foot, gleaming metallic Over Kill over, smirking. "I don't think that's going to fool a lot of people. But I don't see as how we have a lot of choice, no matter what." He takes out his cellphone. "You got the clothes with you?" he asks as he flips through his number listing for the taxi company he's been using. "I don't think anyone's going to notice much, if um, if all of the metal's covered up..." Pennington says, sounding less than convinced of it personally. "Just...here," she says, reaching into her purse and handing Over Kill a cigarette. "A prop." Major Bludd chuckles, then frowns. "Ah, now you're making /me/ want one, love," he grumbles, still smiling. Over Kill digs in his backpack, taking out a folded up trench, fedora, pants and a pair of boots and a walking stick. He stoops over, looking like a odd hunchback, hiding his face down into the coat. Sure, he looks weird, but at least he's covered. "I've often posed as a performance artist like this." He says. "Named.. um. David." he takes the cigarette and puts it in one of the holes on his facemask. "There we go. The vector chuckles slightly. "Oh who asked you?" "Sorry, hon," Pennington laughs. "Well?...I guess we wait for the taxi, then. Do we look like Brisbane folk? Maybe a few college students who took a wrong turn trying to find their getaway resort?" She giggles. Major Bludd shakes his head, pressing a key on his phone and holding it to his ear. "G'day," he says into the phone after a moment. "I need a pickup from Springfield Municipal Airport." He pauses. "Right. Excellent. Thanks." He flips the phone shut and drops it into his pocket. "Car'll be here in about ten." Over Kill grunts. "Would it be better if I was a mute?" He says. "Voice's a bit mechanical." he shifts hsi feet, waiting for the car. "This is still odd." Major Bludd digs in another pocket and produces a cigarette packet and a lighter. "Brisbane folks are just folks, like everyone else. I don't think we'll need to worry about it." A couple of cigarettes, and an enjoyable taxi ride later, the trio find themselves in Brisbane. Following the coordinates as mapped out, the driver speeds right on through the nice sections of town, and follows the freeway into... Old tenament buildings. Low-rent dwellings. Dusty old warehouses. This isn't a particularly nice section of town, but now they've been dropped off on a corner. Pennington glances around a bit nervously. "...Are you suuuure this is right? Why would the BAT be out here?" Major Bludd pays the cabbie and lets the taxi speed away. He turns to look around, frowning. Over Kill narrows his bright glowing eyes under his hat. "I don't know." He pulls out a bright red scarf and puts it over his face to hide the eyes. "But we're going to find out." He looks to the area they're driving to, expecting a military base of some sort. There aren't any military bases around here...this is strictly what passes for the 'ghetto'. The heat gives the surrounding buildings a surreal 'shimmering' effect. Insofar as coordinates are concerned, Over Kill will notice that they are EXTREMELY close to the BAT now. If the calculations are correct, the BAT has somehow ended up in an old, decrepit, abandoned-looking factory building within walking distance. Major Bludd flicks the stub of his clove away, straightening as he takes in his surroundings. It won't pay to seem like a relaxed tourist here. "Which way, Over Kill?" Pennington remains close to the Major, appearing all at once concerned and wary. How did her cooking BAT get out here? Had it been kidnapped? The lack of answers worries her. GAME: Over Kill PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty. Over Kill starts to run another test, trying to keep them few and far between so that any hackers that might be with the BAT wouldn't detect them. "Turn right here." He says, being very quiet the whole way over. "13, follow at 2500 feet.." he seems to be lost in the network, making sure all the other BATs are in line. Major Bludd glances to Pennington a moment before following Over Kill. Behind his sunglasses, his gaze darts here and there, keeping a sharp lookout for anything that might signify trouble. Pennington quietly follows Over Kill, glancing back toward Bludd every so often. It isn't very long before they end up at a pair of chained doors, the rusty remnants of a building that had once been a small paint factory if the faded sign is any indication. GAME: Over Kill PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty. Over Kill checks the outside of the factory for any cameras before exiting the vehicle. "Looks clear. No sentries.." This factory was probably active in an age prior to security cameras. So there doesn't seem to be any. Its only security seems to be the heavy, rusted chains on the doors...which probably last closed in the 1950s. Pennington is frowning now, doubt beginning to creep into her mind bit by bit. Major Bludd slides the shades down the bridge of his nose for a moment, peering at the doors and the sign. "Well, unless we want to break and enter," he says quietly, "we'd best look for another way in." He picks his way down a side alley toward the back of the building. The side of the old factory has only cranked-shut windows as access ports, but they're high overhead and fuzzed over with the grime of decades. Once on the opposite side of the building, however, the Major hits jackpot. There's an identical set of doors here to the ones on the front end, but these aren't chained together. They do, however, appear to be locked. Over Kill heads around the other side of the building, looking for windows that might be easily broken into. "I don't see what's wrong with breaking and entering, so long as we don't get caught.. do you see anything back there?" Bludd steps back out into the alley and motions to the other two. He gazes at the door, frowning. "Got any lockpicks?" he asks Over Kill. Over Kill approaches the door. "No. But I do have very strong hands." he moves to the door and prepares to rip it off the hinges. GAME: Over Kill PASSES a STRENGTH roll of Very High difficulty. Pennington blinks at Over Kill, then backs away quickly so he can conquer the doors. The doors are absolutely no match for Over Kill; he rips them clean off the hinges. A musty old paint smell wafts forth from the dim, dusty entrance, but there's enough light provided from the windows to reveal an unusual sight. The paint factory is mostly vacant of tools, just some ancient barrels remain. And on the far end, perhaps 20 yards away, sitting motionless on an old wooden chair which is facing them, is the BAT. Over Kill approaches the BAT slowly, motioning the rest of the group back. "There he is. Let me see if it's armed. It might attack. Be on your guard.." he opens up the fingers on his left hand, ready to plug into the BAT and see where it's been. If he can get close enough to it to do so. Major Bludd winces and takes a few steps backward as Over Kill tears the doors open. "Over Kill," he grinds out quietly, stepping up again to peer into the factory, "remind me to teach you about a little thing I like to call 'discretion'..." "Wow, that was pretty impressive," Pennington murmurs quietly. As she peers inside, her eyes widen in amazement. "He *is* in here! I don't think he's armed, he still had the cooking attachments when I last saw him." The BAT remains perfectly motionless as Over Kill approaches. It seems to be in some sort of rest or recharge mode, and sure enough, it still has an eggbeater hand. No active weaponry. GAME: Over Kill FAILS a TECHNICAL roll of Immense difficulty. Over Kill kneels by the BAT, looking him over. He doesn't notice anything out of place, and proceeds to plug into the BAT without checking for any sort of viruses or anything. Silly android. "Allright. Let's see if I can tell where it's been and who its been with and how it got here." GAME: Major Bludd PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Above Average difficulty. Major Bludd stands by the door, leaning his back against the wall, his sidearm in his hands. His gaze sweeps the interior of the factory. "Hsst!" he hisses suddenly, tensing. "Quiet, all of you. We may not be alone." The BAT remains compliantly seated as Over Kill checks its brain. Thankfully -- there are no virii! However, the BAT has been reprogrammed, and the new programming is gradually rewriting its old programming by degrees. Over Kill is able to discover that the BAT was summoned here by a couple of African-looking men. As the Major makes his discovery, Pennington bites her lip, then pulls a small sidearm out of her purse and readies it, glancing around. One exit. Not good. Over Kill reports. "African looking men broght him here. There's new programming." he hisses. "We know who this is. I'll try to isolate his programming and rewrite.. I'll need to protect all of the BATs from this.." Major Bludd keeps sweeping the area with his eyes, his back pressed firmly against the wall beside the door they entered through. "Make it quick, Over Kill," he grinds out. He glances to Pennington momentarily, nodding very slightly as he notes her sidearm in her hands. Suddenly, a couple of men appear at the entrance, armed with .45s. They're expecting sitting ducks...an easy kill. Easily distracted by the BAT in the chair, perhaps? Over Kill continues to try to isolate the programming, narrowing his optics. "Its being elusive.." He hears the men come into the room and motions his free hand. "Kill them. I'll need time.." Major Bludd presses the nose of his sidearm against the temple of the nearest man in the doorway. "Give me the gun," he growls, "or I'll plug you /an'/ yer mate." The man freezes in surprise, giving a wide-eyed glance to his companion. This wasn't QUITE what they had bargained for! Certainly not what they were promised. Reluctantly, the man sheepishly hands over the gun, and the second man hands his over. Pennington comes over to cover, training her own gun on the second man. GAME: Over Kill PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Average difficulty. Over Kill finally ends up breaking the programming on the BAT. "I got it. There. That should fixx it. He should be ready to come home with us now." He stands. "Cooking.. BAT." He winces at the name. "Fall in. We're taking you home." Major Bludd nods, smiling cruelly. "Very smart," he says, flicking on the captured gun's safety and tucking it into the back of his jeans. "Take the nice man's weapon, there, will you, my dear?" He nods toward the second man near Pennington. "What's this all about?" he demands of the man he's still threatening with his pistol. "Who d'you work for?" Back by Over Kill, the BAT is immediately compliant, even answering to its name. No more lag time, for obvious reasons! Over by the door, Pennington nods to Bludd, and reaches to grab the .45, pointing both guns toward the second man to cover him. "We was hired by a man, called himself Tony," answers the thug nervously. His dialect pegs him as a local, definitely not South African in any way shape or form. Bludd frowns at the man's obviously local accent. "How long ago?" he demands. "And what's with the android?" He jerks his head toward the Cooking BAT. "What's ol' 'Tony' want it for?" GAME: Over Kill FAILS an INTELLIGENCE roll of Very High difficulty. Over Kill pauses. "Name.. last name.. I wonder if locals know about our operations here." he murmurs to the BAT. "This afternoon. He said if we offed ya in this here factory, we'd get paid real well," the thug answers. "We don't know nothin' about that thing, other than Tony said you lot would be like shootin' fish in a barrel once you came in to get it." Major Bludd grins broadly. "Well, now," he drawls, "seems like we've turned th' tables on ya, don't it? What was supposed t'happen /after/ y'plugged us?" "C'mon, mate, let us go, we just needed some pay," the second man pleads. The first one isn't quite as repentant. "He was gonna come get that thing, we was gonna get paid, an' that would be the end of it. Oh, an' you lot was gonna end up eaten by sharks." "When?!" Bludd presses the gun a little harder against the man's head. "How d'you tell him y've done th' job?" He ignores the pleas of the other man, focusing on the one before him. The second guy looks about ready to mess his pants, but the first one just chuckles coldly. "The evidence would be *your bodies*, fulla bullet holes an' lined up for him t'check out for his own self," he says with a smirk. Over Kill continues to watch, crossing his arms and letting Major Bludd do the interrogations. He never was good at talking. "Right," Bludd says, casually. "We need two bodies, then," he smiles at Pennington. "Look! We've got two live ones... let's fix that. Then ol' Tony'll come t'find us, right?" He pauses to leer briefly at the second man before fixing his gaze on the first again. He makes a slight adjustment to his grip on his pistol. "C'mon, mate, don't kill us! Look, why don't you hire us on t'kill this bloke who wanted you gone??" offers the second man desperately. The first one leers at Pennington. "Why dontcha put out a bit for a condemned man, hm?" Pennington frowns in annoyance. Major Bludd barks out a laugh. "I don't need t'hire assassins, mate. An' /you/," he grabs a handful of the first man's shirt and slams him up against the wall with a fair amount of force, "are /out/ of chances." He slides the pistol around, pressing its tip underneath the man's jaw. "Say g'night, Gracie." Over Kill narrows his eyes at the first guy "OH you should know better then to..." He winces. "Yep. You threatened her. Now he's going to kill you." He pauses. "Everyone thinks I'm the dangerous one. They're wrong." Both the second thug and Pennington look away reflexively, because neither of them really want to see a de-braining in progress. The second thug is absolutely terrified, but the first one's already sold his soul up the river, and has nothing left to lose. "You'll be shark food too before long, y'bloody fool," he scoffs at Bludd defiantly. Over Kill murmurs softly. "Finish him. He's already telling you he's dead." Major Bludd smiles pleasantly, as if he's taking in a beautiful sunset, and pulls the trigger. He doesn't pause to wipe the blots of blood from his face as he turns toward the other man. "Like to give me a straight answer?" he asks, still smiling. "God, anything," pleads the second thug. "Whatever y'want, I'm more use t'ya alive!" he insists squeakily, shaking like a leaf. Pennington turns back around after the loud pop, and is relieved to see that Thug #1 is definitely dead. (Good riddance!), she thinks. Over Kill comments. "I'd keep from insulting the lady if you want to live." well that's advice. "I want yer boss here," Bludd growls. "Bring 'im here an' y'won't end up like yer mate, there." He jerks his head toward the remains of the first man. "Okay! Alright! I will, I'll do it!" The second thug promises. "I won't insult the lady, ever, I swear it!" The scene within the old paint factory is thus: Thug #1 is laying in an ever-widening pool of brainy-chunked blood. Thug #2 is terrified yet compliant, wanting to do practically anything to save his own skin. "I'll c-call him," he says, not daring to look at his dead compatriot. Major Bludd glares at the remaining man. "Do it." He regards the trembling man, then lowers his pistol. "You do what I tell ya and you won't get hurt, right?" "Okay," he whimpers, and gingerly pulls a cellphone out of the dead thug's back pocket. In the meantime, Pennington glances over toward her Cooking BAT. "...Is he *really* safe, now?" she wonders skeptically. Over Kill continues to type away. "It should be." He says. "I've got his programming isolated now. I can't help but think this seems familiar.." Major Bludd glances to Over Kill. "Not the first time you've had BATs nicked off you. Angela had found some in Ireland earlier in the year, I think." Over Kill nods "Angela. Figures." He mutters. "I'll look through her files. SOmetimes I wonder if we should have interrogated her before destroying her." "Yeah, Tony, it's Nick," drawls the second thug, in his most convincing voice. "We're all done here. ...Right, you bet." He glances uneasily at Bludd. Pennington keeps her own weapons trained on the thug, while listening to Over Kill. GAME: Over Kill PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Immense difficulty. Major Bludd nods slowly at the thug, his weapon still pointed at the floor. He glances around at the abandoned factory interior while he waits for the man to finish his call. Over Kill starts to go through files, while waiting for the man to finish his calls. He's looking for name,s any organizations anything these people may be attached to. The factory doesn't have much in the way of usable equipment left, though there are a number of large barrels laying about. The thugs seem to be local losers. The only org they have in common is a penchant for spending quite a bit of time in a pub or a jail cell. They're not from South Africa, in fact, they've never even been out of Brisbane. Nick hangs up the cell. "He said he and his mates are on his way over," he tells Bludd glumly. Major Bludd smiles. "Excellent. Lemme have the phone." He comes up to Nick, holding out his left hand. In his right, the pistol taps impatiently against his thigh. Nick hands over the phone obediantly. He's fairly young to be on the skids. He certainly looks younger than the dead thug. He could, very possibly, make a halfway decent Viper, were he able to make it through the academy. For the moment, Nick's trying to sort things out. He glances over toward Pennington and Over Kill in mild confusion. Who had Tony sent them to pick off? What was that, a robot?? An American girl? And who was this one-eyed devil?? "You, uh, ain't from around here, are ya?" Major Bludd pockets the phone. "It doesn't matter where we're from, mate. Let's find you a quiet spot t'rest while we wait f'r yer boss to arrive." He lays a guiding hand on Nick's shoulder and steers him toward a door he hopes leads to a broom closet or something. "Aw, streuth," Nick laments -- however, Bludd doesn't need to use a heavy hand to get him into the closet, Nick just takes the hint and gets in there on his own. Pennington glances back toward the dead thug. "We leaving him there like that?" Over Kill offers "I can incinerate the body if it will make things better." He looks at Nick. "You're definately in over your head." "Look," Bludd says dryly, pointing toward the back of the closet with his free hand, "a hedgehog." He slugs Nick in the side of the head with the pistol, regardless of whether or not the young man falls for the undisguised ruse. He shuts the closet door, turning back to Pennington and Over Kill. "I don't think it's gonna make much difference, Over Kill," he replies. "This Tony character'll probably be here soon." Over Kill nods "We'll be prepared." He says dryly, looking out for this..Tony. "A hedgehog? Where -- Owwww, hey," Nick protests, though his voice is greatly muffled within the confines of the closet. Pennington looks from Over Kill to Bludd. "So are we ambushing him? Are we killing him first? Or just wounding him and bleeding him for answers?" "I want answers," Bludd replies, doing a quick check on the pistol he appropriated from the thug. "Ambush, yes. But try not to reduce him to ashes, alright?" he flicks a glance and a smile toward Over Kill. "The kid said he'd have 'mates' with 'im," he adds, jerking his head toward the closet. "Dunno how many, so be prepared for anything. Find a concealed cover location and get cozy." He walks across the factory floor, crosses the doorway and continues into the shadows beyond. Over Kill reaches for the M9 he always keeps in his leg compartment. "Confirmed, this should be easy.."He looks for a catwalk or anything else this factory might have in the upper levels where he might conceal himself from above. "The good thing is that this place only has one entrance, it's not like they can crawl in from a bunch of different areas," Pennington muses, heading toward a dusty space behind a couple of barrels off to one side of the doors. There are no elaborate catwalk systems overhead, but there are a number of metal beams where Over Kill might be able to perch. Over Kill starts to eye one of the metal beams, seeing if they would hold his weight. Once he is sure they would, he starts to climb one, perching above the group. He removes his right arm and replaces it with a rifle, ready for unsuspecting company. A scraping sound echoes across the factory as Bludd drags an old, rusty barrel a few feet to fetch up against a pair of similar ones. He kneels down behind his makeshift barrier, peering out from the shadows toward the light spilling in from the open door. Minutes pass in silence... Eventually, the sound of an auto can be heard approaching and parking alongside the factory. Voices of several men can be heard, speaking something other than English. Pennington braces herself, staying stock-still as Artemis taught her out on the firing range, and she trains her barrel on the door. Over Kill has never been on a sniping mission before. He's not normally that subtle. Still, he perches low to the beam, not making a move or a sound. He tries to identify the language and run it through his files to see what language it may be. GAME: Over Kill FAILS an INTELLIGENCE roll of Immense difficulty. Major Bludd glances momentarily toward the front entrance behind them. Hoping the boss won't decide to come in that way, he nevertheless keeps his ears open, but returns his gaze to the rear door, crouching down a bit lower behind the barrels. Over Kill hmms "Not an australian dialect." He thinks to himself. "Will have to research.." Suddenly, in come two men of African descent -- definitely not Aboriginals, as their language and demeanor are nothing like the Native Australian peoples. One is dressed like a businessman, the other in camo pants and a dark tee-shirt. The businessman is quite heavy-set, while the more casually dressed man is in fit shape. They carry handguns, but nothing heavy-duty. Unfortunately, also with them are two BATS. Armed to the teeth. Over Kill curses lightly over the network. He checks to see if any BATs are missing. If not, these men can make their own BATs, which is a problem onto it's own. Major Bludd bites his lip as the two BATs enter. (You're getting sloppy,) he mentally berates himself. (They've been nicking BATs off us -- why /wouldn't/ they use them against us?) He makes a few mental calculations and grimaces as none of the results please him. (We'll be lucky to get out of this with our lives.) He sights on the man in the camos, aiming for his neck, and fires off a shot. The BATS look like regular BATS from first glance, but Over Kill will probably need to inspect them a bit closer to confirm it. None of the active BATS are absent off the network, however. The man in the camos goes down in a choking hail of blood, squirms a bit, then dies. "Tony!!" hollers the heavy-set man angrily -- then he screams some sort of short command to the BATs, who quickly respond by training on Bludd's area and opening fire in a swift, brutal volley of automatic shots. Pennington tries to draw their attention away, popping up to fire at their unprotected backs. Major Bludd says, "Damn." Tele-Viper 742 says, "Well, it was in his neck. :)" Major Bludd says, "No, I picked the wrong guy. :)" Tele-Viper 742 says, "Oh! :D" Over Kill says, "heehee :)" Over Kill starts to try to pick off the BATs. He aims his rifle at one BAT's back, trying to hit it from it's weak spots from behind. He knows better then to aim at the head. Swearing, Bludd ducks back down behind the barrels. He only acknowledges the hellish sound the bullets make as they strike his barrier with a frown as he drops to his stomach. He slides his pistol around the barrel at the end, peeking out to take a shot at the other man. The BATs automatically turn, pivoting to begin firing on both Pennington and Over Kill. The deafening racket of gunfire fills the small factory. One of the BATs -- specifically, the one Over Kill targets, begins to malfunction, his shots going wide. Pennington's BAT is still firing heavily. The fat guy in the suit has left Tony to die on the floor to save his own ass. He begins making a break for the door, using the BATs as cover. What he wasn't counting on, however, was Bludd targeting him. A shot blows out his knee, and with an anguished cry, he falls to the ground. Bludd scrambles to his feet as soon as the BATs' stop firing on his position and races after the man in the suit. He grabs him by the back of his collar and attempts to wrench him around so that he's between Bludd and the BATs. Terrified, the man in the suit shouts out the command to make the BATs stop, and they obediently do so, standing stock-still in the factory-cum-slaughterhouse. Pennington pops up from behind her barrel cover, training her gun warily on the suited man. "/Now then/," Bludd grunts, crouching behind the suited man and bringing his pistol up to press indelicately against the back of his neck, "how's about you tell me what all this android stuff is about, eh?" "It is our business," The suited man says -- non-sarcastically, the emphasis more on 'business'. "We tailor-make the robots to the likes of clients. But you killed the tech-man, he was a GOOD tech-man and partner. He was the one who could make the robots." Over Kill holsters his rifle arm once the BATs stop shooting. He starts to look down "Yes. I would also be interested to learn where you are getting my property." The closet inches open just a tad, and Nick peers out at the scene wide-eyed. Major Bludd snorts. "Well, then, I guess business is closed." He gets up, hauling the suited man to his feet as he does so, the pistol still threatening. "I think I know a couple of blokes who'd like to talk to you about the fact you stole their technology to make these robots." The suited man smirks, looking from Tony's body, to the BATs, and then up toward Over Kill. "Stole technology? No, we took inferior technology, and we improved upon it. And then we did a very enterprising thing and built a business from it. We have one man to thank for the initial material. The startup capital. And the warehouse to improve upon the BATs. I think you know who it was." He smirks. "I do not need to tell you. You know." Over Kill starts to move down from his perch, towards the suited man. His optics glow angrily. "You're going to tell us where this warehouse is." He says. "And I'll show you how 'inferior' my technology is.." oh dear. He seems to be getting moody. "You bloody found it already. Least, that's what Mrs. Vanderpool told us. You walked straight into it and fussed about like you owned the place," the man sniffs indignantly. "I know the bloke, alright," Bludd replies. "I met 'im in Rotterdam a few months back." He chuckles. "I think we have a lot to talk about," he says to the suit. Over Kill hmms "Do you have a way to communicate to Mrs. Vanderpool? I have a ..message for her." "Fine, whatever," the suited man agrees with Bludd resignedly, his shoulders drooping. "I need a hospital," he protests unhappily, staring down at his bleeding leg. He looks toward Over Kill. "Why don't you tell her yourself? You were on her property -- surely you know where it is if you were there." Pennington remains silent, listening in on this odd exchange. The closet door remains peeped open, with Nick listening in. Major Bludd peers at the suit's injured leg. "We'll get ya some medical help, mate," he drawls. "Over Kill, bring Thirteen down here. We'll need to load up Mr Entrepreneur here, as well as those BATs." Over Kill nods "Confirmed." He says. He motions with his free hand and makes an odd chirp. A large dragonesque BAT carrier lands right outside the front door, looking in. It grunts, saying something inappropriate. The only thing the Vector knows how to say "Hallo, Per-ty lady." Over Kill facepalms. Major Bludd marches the suit toward the Vector. "Pennington," he calls over his shoulder, "take a peek in on our mate Nick, will you? Make sure he hasn't smashed his head on anything. Over Kill, bring the BATs." "Right," Pennington says, heading over to the closet -- which closes quickly before she heads over there. She opens the closet door, poking her M-9 inside. "Hey, you, come on out," she says, and Nick exits the closet obediently. The floor is a bit of a mess at this point. Between the bloody remnants of Tony and the dead thug, the floor is a bit slick in spots. The suit limps painfully as Bludd marches him to the Vector, but he doesn't try any funny business. Over Kill makes a motion to the BATs. "Follow." He hopes the BATs are still programmed to do so. "Thirteen. Follow the coordinates that Major Bludd gives you. Keep out of radar detection." the Vector tilts its head and nods in understanding, turning around to open it's hatch and let everyone into its midsection. Tele-Viper 742 says, "Mmmkay. Let's pause a moment here...do we want to end this with Evander Godwin (the suit) in COBRA custody? Major Bludd straps the suit in and stands nearby, his pistol still in his hand. He waits for the BATs to board and Pennington to report. Tele-Viper 742 says, "OK, then. :) So basically, here's what Bludd learns on the way back -- I figured instead of scening this, I'd just tell you, because otherwise all Over Kill will have to pose is 13 doing the flying thing. What he volunteers without coercion is that his name is Evander Godwin, and he's the VP of Tschwane. The CEO, of course, was Eli Vanderpool, but he's basically pulling CEO duty for the company. Tony Mbegwe, the dead guy, was the technical brains of the outfit." Tele-Viper 742 says, "But that's all he volunteers. :)" Category:2007 Category:Logs Category:Vanderpool TP